Such gross delusions could not pass
Through any ears but of an ass.
But gold defiles with frequent touch;
There's nothing fouls the hand so much:
And scholars give it for the cause
Of British Midas' dirty paws;
Which, while the senate strove to scour,
They wash'd away the chemick power.
While he his utmost strength apply'd,
To swim against this popular tide,
The golden spoils flew off apace,
Here fell a pension, there a place:
The torrent merciless imbibes
Commissions, perquisites, and bribes;
By their own weight sunk to the bottom;
Much good may do them that have caught 'em!
And Midas now neglected stands,
With asses' ears, and dirty hands.
AN Orator dismal of Nottinghamshire,
Who has forty years let out his conscience to hire,
Out of zeal for his country, and want of a place,
Is come up, vi ei armis, to break the queen's peace.
- ↑ The lord treasurer having hinted a wish one evening that a ballad might be made on the earl of Nottingham, this song was written and printed the next morning.
